Insane! A daring comedy for 1 person. Monopies. Nikolay LakutinЧитать онлайн книгу.
to the chest area) open his eyes. Everything that you are loved and appreciated for, we write here.
4. We take out all the available certificates, commendations, diplomas, medals, if any. Love letters with confessions will also fit here. We take everything out and hang it on the wall so that everything that has been achieved so far can be seen.
And now, having seen and appreciated everything that you are not in words, not in snatches of memory, but in fact in history and in fact, you can already objectively make up a picture of your Self.
His real self. The True Self. Having seen all that abundance of thanks, results, achievements, having mentally run along your path up to today, up to the present moment, you need to boldly approach the mirror and smile to yourself. That's the whole secret.
Playing with an eyebrow, sums up what has been said and spreads his hands to the musical accompaniment.
Lera (warmly, enthusiastically to the viewer). But back to me. You have probably already understood in general terms the peculiarities of my character. I am hot-tempered, flighty, short-sighted, sometimes selfish and yes, changeable in moods. In a word – not an angel. But I'm not trying to be an angel. Explain why? By the way, are there any angels here among us? If there is – tell me, how do you live in the world of people? I think it's just unbearable. Here, a person among people sometimes wants to strangle himself, and even more so, an angel will not have to wait for anything good. That's why I don't want to be an angel. In devils (playfully) – yes, sometimes it happens, but without fanaticism.
And so we are all people, we are all people. Why should you pretend to be a saint?
And, yes, a few words, directly about the name. Lera. Valeria, it appears. Means: strong, strong, healthy. It seems to be all good. But the name Valeria comes from the male name Valery! And why the hell do I need a man's base in my name, pray tell? What? Didn't you find any other female names?
The whole point is that we don't choose our names, our parents give them to us. And for some reason, parents do not even think about the fact that the name they gave their child, it does not have to like this very child at all. Accept it as a fact and live with it, son or daughter.
Yes, I do not argue, now the name can be changed. You go to the passport office, write an application, and voila! But this is only after you get a passport, that is, from the age of 14. And even then, with the consent of the parents. My mother didn't give me consent then. And later, when I was 18, I could without any consent there… Then one thing, then another… Somehow I didn't get ready. I am still suffering, I carry this load in me. I still haven't accepted it, but I haven't changed anything either. Vitek is probably right. She is a fool.
Do you know what I wanted to call myself? What name did you want to put in your passport, say? (Looks inquiringly into the hall). I won't tell you! (He shows his tongue.) I'd better go buy new dishes, and at the same time I'll look for a new man for myself!
Leaves under musical accompaniment.
ZTM.
Scene 2. Looking for a man.
Under the musical accompaniment, when the light is turned on smoothly, Lera enters the hall. She's in disguise. The outfit is bright, catchy, defiant. In his hand is a bag with clinking dishes. He walks gracefully, looking for a target among the audience.
The musical accompaniment subsides and ends, the light becomes brighter.
Lera (loudly, soulfully, to the viewer). Comrades! I'm looking for a man! Very necessary!
A decoy spectator, a girl (calmly, as if not audible to everyone, perhaps to a neighbor or a neighbor, without turning around at the actress). I need it too!
Lera (to the decoy girl, as if accidentally hearing). Do you need it too? Get in line, please, I was the first one standing here! And I need it more anyway!
Lera turns her gaze back to all the viewers, unaddressed.
Lera (heartfelt, trembling, to the viewer). Comrades, do not show indifference and indifference. Surely there is some kind of peasant among your acquaintances. Maybe someone's got it lying around?
He turns to someone from the audience, to girls and women.
Lera (pityingly, to the viewer). Have you got any? No? And this one sitting next to you is not yours? (To everyone) Comrades, whose man? Ah, yours after all. Understood. So, okay…
it goes on.
Lera (pityingly, to the viewer). By Christ – God, I ask you to help me, who can do what! Very necessary! I'm not asking for myself, nor for self-interest, but for my mother! Got me, the old one. He says I'm going to die, so I won't understand my grandchildren. Find someone! Even crooked, even oblique, even short, to hell with it, it is possible with some minor defect. If only everything worked there for him… To make sense! (Shows clenched fist).
Passes, looks after, asks softly, searches, does not find.
Lera (distressed, to the viewer). But what is it? Such a day. Everything started fine and those times. You won't find a free man in the daytime with fire. Comrades! Brothers! Eh? What should I do? How can I justify myself to my mother?
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